Take Two
by Haurvatat
Summary: A series of missing scenes from canon. Generally, Leo gets the snot kicked out of him and somebody has to be in charge of picking up the pieces. It tends to be Klaus, because everyone else is a shameless asshole.
1. Full Stop

Note: I wrote this thing back on April 15th and put it on AO3, and by a couple of minutes missed being the first English Kekkai Sensen fic ever published. I take slight comfort in knowing that it's still the longest fic in the fandom. Gonna upload all of the chapters here shortly.

Leo is my new son. Anyone familiar with my work knows I absolutely delight in the "coworkers gradually becoming family" trope, so I expect I'll want to pack this dumb series of one-shots full of sappy bullshit. You're all welcome.

* * *

Well, Leo felt like shit.

More than usual, too. Today had sucked phenomenally from the onset, with that asshole Zapp stealing from him left and right. Then he'd seen a really fucked up… what did Zapp say it looked like? A dry cleaning van? Whatever. That. And then like an idiot he'd stared for too long, gotten noticed, gotten hunted down, had his company scooter smashed into bits (and if his boss decided to take it out of his paychecks, Leo would be zero percent surprised), been kidnapped, and then threatened with dissection and all other sorts of fun crap. Joy. Rapture. Why had he thought that crashing the stupid van was a good idea? Some thought of dubious source whispering that things couldn't really get all that much worse, could they? Then why not crash the fucking van? Genius. That 4.15 GPA sure liked to show itself at the weirdest times. Not.

While his captors were thankfully thrown far away from Leo, he had been thrown about a bit himself. Leo took stock as quickly as he could. The left side of his head had smashed up against something (probably one of the weird column things lining the sides of the internal compartment) and it felt like blood was covering the entire left side of his face as a result. He was dimly aware of a headache, but it was distant and numbed. He wished he could say the same for his ribcage. Or his shoulders. His wrists luckily were no longer bound, but before the bonds (felt like packing tape) had snapped, his shoulders had been wrenched damn near out of their sockets. His wrists were raw from where he'd struggled. Something sliding around had smashed into his right knee and now he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to walk on that leg easily. Bruises were absolutely everywhere, and cuts and scrapes lined every exposed scrap of skin he had. He was going to be such pretty colors in the morning.

But hey – the van was stopped, and the bad guys were gone.

Wait, gone?

Leo vaguely remembered seeing the back doors get thrown open from the centripetal force of the vehicle spinning out of control, and watching the taller criminal guy get thrown through them. All the same, aliens generally had tougher constitutions than humans did. Surely he would have been able to get up and back into the van by now. Leo was a sitting duck, and yet no one had come to kick his ass into next week.

Sounded like fighting outside. Subsequent car wrecks? Christ. Leo hadn't really thought about what might happen to other drivers on the road. If he'd managed to hurt innocents by accident, he would never forgive himself.

"Sonic?" he croaked. Wow, his voice was shot. Maybe all the screaming once the van tipped over? Had he been screaming? He couldn't remember.

The little monkey popped out from behind one of the hanging… people. Things. Eurgh. All the same, since they were all hanging affixed from the ceiling, there had been far less to smash into, so Sonic hadn't had eighteen trillion boxes of whatever smash into him. That was a relief. A decent-sized sneaker could probably have knocked the animal for ten. Sonic chittered and scurried over to Leo, looking distressed. His little hands yanked on Leo's shirtsleeve, hopping up and down.

"I'd get up if I could, smartass. Just… could you be lookout? Let me know what's going on out there?" It was stupid. Sonic couldn't speak. Leo must've hit his head harder than he thought.

It turned out the gesture was unnecessary.

"Leonardo? Are you in there?" a deep voice said.

"…Mr. Klaus?" Leo said.

"Thank heaven. Do you need medical assistance?"

Leo glanced down at at least one broken rib and a growing bloodstain from the injury on his forehead. "I'm gonna go with yes."

"Understood. I will call an ambulance."

"No need. They're already on their way," said someone else. A head popped into view. "Hell of a way for us to get together, but it's awful nice to finally meet you all the same, Leo! I'm Steven Starphase. Call me Steven."

Leo coughed miserably. "Charmed."

Steven started laughing. Leo decided he didn't like him much. Not so much an active loathing as a recreational dislike. An idle hatred. But seriously, he was lying there bleeding and this fucker thought it prime comedy material. What a douche.

"Welcome again to Libra, you beautiful fucking disaster!"

"Thanks. That ambulance –"

"It's on its way," Klaus said. "Just a moment." The large man clambered in through the back doors as best he could. "Do you have any broken bones?"

"Probably. Doubt I can check, though. If I had to place bets they'd be on my shoulder and ribs."

Klaus tried to move such that more light reached Leo, and gently went about tapping various parts of Leo's chest and shoulders. Leo hissed here and there, trying his best not to whimper like a kicked puppy. At last he finished. "Most of it is bruising, although you might have a hairline fracture on your fourth rib. We'll need x-rays to be certain. But your right shoulder is most definitely dislocated. Would you like me to relocate it now, or would you prefer to wait for the paramedics?"

Holy shit that sounded painful. Wow. "Uh – let's… let's wait, okay? Thanks."

"You are most welcome," Klaus said. "I'm going to get you out of here now."

He was being as gentle as he possibly could, scooping his massive arms under Leo's back and knees, and Leo knew that, but it still hurt. Thankfully, it went a bit easier once they were out of the van and he wasn't being jostled so much. For what felt like the first time since that morning, he let himself relax a little. He might've heard a siren in the distance. God, he was so tired. He could do with a nap.

Chain's soft voice was inquiring about the situation. Steven was giving directions for investigating the van thoroughly. Klaus's chest was nice and warm and the weather was oddly nice out.

And like that, bleeding heavily, finally coming off the adrenaline high, Leo fell dead asleep.


	2. Conversations with the Butt-ler

When Leo said "Bring on the world," he meant it sarcastically. The universe heard, "Just fuck me up". As if he didn't look enough like a hobo already.

* * *

Thank God all of Leo's shit could fit inside his bags and pillowcases. He'd known from the onset that stuff got wrecked far too easily in the City of Miracles, so he hadn't brought much with him from home. Besides, if he really needed something, it wouldn't take him longer than a couple of hours to go home and grab it. Still, he had needed a place in the city if he planned on A) keeping a job and B) finding Libra, so he'd gotten himself an apartment.

Until the fucking eviction notice.

To be honest, he kind of preferred waking up to the dumb monkey smothering him. Less of a shock to suffocate nearly to death.

One way or another, muttered curses or none, Leo was still officially homeless and carting around three bags' worth of clothes and sparse electronics. He really needed to find a place to put it all down or his back was going to give out. He remembered the old scoliosis brace he'd had to wear back in seventh grade, and had no intention of reliving it.

And somehow he'd ended up in front of the back alley that eventually led to the entrance of Libra. Could he get there with all the baggage? Some of the passages were pretty narrow. Some distant part of Leo's brain paused to marvel at how a very wide man like Klaus managed to get in there when even a twiggy bastard like Leo had issues.

Eh, his stuff was all compressible, anyway. If it got crushed, it was no big deal, and his camera was heavily padded. He wasn't sure what he expected once he got there, but it seemed as good a temporary plan as any.

* * *

"Oh dear," Gilbert murmured.

"That's what I'm saying," Leo said. "I don't suppose you know any landlords in the area that have cheap accommodations without, y'know, being in the part of town that's gonna get me drafted into sex work or drugs. I promised my parents I wouldn't get mixed up in all that."

"Understandable."

"I should hope so."

They both drank their tea amiably. It was so nice to play things low-key for once.

Gilbert frowned thoughtfully. Or maybe not. It was hard to tell under all the bandages. "Master Klaus was interested in keeping a close eye on you."

"What with my penchant for trouble?"

"Among other reasons, yes. I am certain he will not mind if I increase your stipend so you can afford an apartment that is somewhat closer to here, and further from the unsavory districts. It's already somewhat strange that we pay you so lit-"

"Absolutely not!" Leo said. He looked nothing short of aghast. "There's no way I'm taking more money. I mean, I do nothing around here. I can't… I mean, I just wouldn't ever feel right about it. Hell, I already feel bad about the baseline stipend. I'm not even useful nine times out of ten. It's really nice of you to offer, though. Super-nice."

"You are welcome. Are you uncomfortable with what you feel is charity?" Gilbert asked.

"Uh, no, no. I just feel like I haven't earned it," Leo said.

Gilbert was silent for a moment. "Perhaps, then, we can provide you temporary lodgings here until you find a dwelling that suits your needs."

"Eh?! Aw jeez, I can't do that. I'm practically a hobo and this place is really nice and professional and all that."

"You are a hobo who works here, remember. If you don't belong in these halls, no one does." And with that, Gilbert stood, collected the empty teacups, and made for the door. He graciously made no mention of Leo's very red face. If people kept being this nice to him, he was going to combust.

No one was out in the lobby, and likely wouldn't until lunchtime or later. Maybe he could just… take a quick nap on the couch. He had been woken very early that morning with the eviction notice, and had only managed to fall asleep pretty late the previous night. It would be great to take a tiny cat nap.

Leo rummaged around in his bags. Yup, his heavily-wrinkled but still reasonably fuzzy blanket. He did have permission from Mister Gilbert, and it looked like the majority of his stresses could be postponed for a day that sucked a little less.

Leo conked out like a light.

He woke up later to the unwelcome sensation of Zapp's bony fucking rear end seated squarely on his mouth and nose. Honestly, if the guy wanted to sit on his face, he could at least buy Leo dinner first.


	3. Suit Yourself

"Oh my God," Leo whispered. He actually considered passing out. This was appalling.

"Something wrong?" Steven asked.

"Huh? Uh – no! Not at all! Ehehehe…" Leo tried to walk that one off by making a quick break for what he hoped was the clearance section. Zapp, an aisle or two over, snorted.

He'd never figured that proper suits were so fucking expensive.

It had started off innocently enough when Steven – or, if he decided to be proper about it, Mister Starphase – suggested that Leo get something business-y to wear. He had noticed that everyone else dressed in business-casual (even Zapp had jackets with lapels, and when Zapp dressed classier than you, you knew there was a major problem). While a lot of Libra's operations dealt primarily with ferreting out criminals and seeing them brought to justice, a good portion involved diplomatic measures in helping authority figures come to decisions without bombing each other's tits off. For that, it was usually deemed best to wear something that didn't come out of a thrift store bargain bin that was three or four sizes too big (Leo had momentarily protested this until realizing that he could literally fit two of him in the sweatshirt he'd been wearing at the time).

With the money that now no longer needed to go towards his rent, Leo figured he might be able to splurge a tiny bit and get an article of clothing that wouldn't shame his mother. But this fancy-shmancy store with ties and vests and blazers and trousers and – Jesus Christ, were those tie pins? And bow ties in little boxes? Fuck, they actually had a display with silk handkerchiefs. Mother of the Saints. It was overwhelming even if he hadn't seen the price tags.

But he had.

There were four figures on that little tag. Four whole numbers indicating that if Leo wanted a full suit, with tailoring, he was going to be in debt for at least three years. He felt like crying.

Even with his job at the pizza place and the stipend from Libra, this was more than he could stomach or rationalize. How was he going to tell Steven that this just wasn't an option? Surely Mr. Klaus was sufficient for diplomatic meetings. They didn't need him.

Leo flinched a little, trying to hide in with the rainbows of dress shirts. How true it was. They really didn't need him for legwork, since he was useless more often than not. Steven had probably asked Leo to get a suit so he could step up and do at least some part of the job on a regular basis, and Leo was just going to blow him off? Because a price tag scared him?

He thought about it. Upon moving to the outskirts of Jerusalem's Lot, their parents had set up an emergency fund with about $20,000 in it. They had said that if anything happened to them, Leo was to dip into that money to take care of Michella. It had been unspoken, but they had also implied that if Leo ever found something that could cure Michella's legs, the money was to be put towards the procedure. Even after everything that happened, he still hadn't touched it.

While being a fully-functioning member of Libra was his best bet at finding something that could save his sister, using that money for a suit of all things still seemed like a gargantuan waste. Like sacrilege. Like he was throwing away his own sister's medical costs to line his wardrobe. He nearly choked. There was no way in Hell he could do that.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder. It took all his mental fortitude not to jump three feet in the air. "You really are looking pale. Are you certain you're doing all right? You did get discharged from the hospital a bit on the early side," Steven said.

He opened his mouth to lie. Say he was fine. Say there were no problems at all. What came out was distressed squeaking.

"Holy shit, he's gonna cry. Steve, you prick, you made him cry in public. Wow." Okay, Zapp needed to shut up. And wipe that huge grin off his face while he was at it.

"What the- ? I didn't- !"

"Yeah, you did. You didn't notice? He got two steps in here, looked at the prices, and shat a brick. I mean, granted, the ones in the front of the store are always the most expensive ones, but still. Leo's broke as fuck, and your first instinct is to take him to, like, what is probably the most expensive menswear store in the city? I repeat for the record: Wow."

"Huh? But he's not paying for it!" Steven protested.

Leo froze. "…W-what?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's needed for the job, so we can just expense report it. You won't have to pay a dime out of pocket."

Beams of rainbow-colored light. Golden arches. Angelic choirs singing. Leo felt amazing. Like he'd been forgiven for all his many sins and been granted a second life on this Earth. Like God slapped him on the ass and said, "Go get 'em tiger" before sending him on his way. The sweet smell of freedom.

"I take back every mean thing I've ever thought about you. You're a beautiful soul," he blubbered, hugging Steven around the middle as tightly as he could manage with his limp noodle arms.

Zapp took a picture with his cell phone. ' _For the archives_ ,' he'd said when asked.


	4. Crunch

Klaus had actually been bouncing and humming to himself on the ride over. Leo thought he'd heard snatches of Vivaldi's Summer in there. Trust Klaus to be a classical fan. For a hulk of a creature, he sure could be cute at the weirdest times. And that was objectively speaking – there just was no other word for it than "cute".

The music had made him feel a little better, though. Made for a good distraction. Now that distraction wasn't there, and his mind was free to wander to topics on which he'd rather not dwell. Creepy disembodied hands clutching cursed pieces of paper long after the limb's severance? That kind of crap was nightmare material all on its own, or would have been had Leo not been living in Jerusalem's Lot long enough to have seen some shit.

But he'd seen the names. Been able to read them? Not so much. The text had been rather beautiful, the complex characters bending around themselves. He wouldn't mind learning how to read and write in that language, whatever it was. Provided, of course, that it didn't have the awful side effect of whiting his fucking eyes out.

The sparkles resulting from that little adventure in Elder curses had been sparse at first, but they'd quickly multiplied and taken over his sight. Everything was white. Some distant voice screaming in his head as he'd come very close to passing out. Reaching out a hand, desperate to grab hold of something (anything) that felt solid. He'd found Klaus's shirtsleeve and clutched onto it for dear life, waiting for some color to come back into the world. Klaus had asked several urgent questions, probably regarding his well-being, but Leo could not for the life of him remember the exact phrasing or his response. He'd just been scared.

He was still scared.

Forty-seven agents dead just to get ahold of a stupid hand. All of them were probably ten gajillion times more skilled than Leo, and they'd been wiped out like flies on the windshield of a car going 90. And now just the four of them were going to stare into the Bad Guy Less-Than-Secret Lair. In broad daylight. For fuck's sake, none of them were even on their guard or anything. Zapp had a handheld camera for reasons Leo didn't totally get (who would even be watching the video?) and Klaus was standing really far back. Plus, Leo was the one standing closest to the man best described as a human disaster magnet.

This seemed like a Bad Idea. Capitals. Big letters for big seriousness.

"Listen. As soon as you sense anything abnormal, close your eyes." He could do that. Granted first that he really understood what 'abnormal' counted as anymore. Did 'all the fucking time' count?

"No, if possible, hang in there until the last second before closing your eyes. No! Hang in there until the last second, and when you feel, 'There's no hope left! I am very clearly going to die! I'm done for; utterly done for! Stop, stop, stop!' Then close your eyes."

Jesus motherfucking Christ on a pogo stick.

Eh, at least with Zapp recording, somebody could send his last moments to his next of kin. So, Michella. Who, if he exploded or whatever, wouldn't be able to see the gross stuff, anyway. Small blessings?

Leo was grateful his really baggy pants hid how much his knees were shaking. He hadn't even been looking directly at anything important when he'd collapsed last time. Now he may very well be staring into what could properly be termed the nest of all the Big Bads combined. If they put half the failsafe mechanisms on their home as they did on a piece of loose-leaf paper, Leo was so dead. His throat clenched. His jaw locked. He had one stupid job to do, and that was to open his eyes and take a peek. Hardly taxing. Just shut up and do it. They were counting on him. The one thing he was good for, and he wasn't going to blow it now. If this really was as dangerous as Leo thought it might be, then it would mean that the information was important. Leo could be really useful here. This was information they'd been after for years, right? Loads of people had fought and died for information about these people, and some had probably been doing it for longer than Leo had been alive. If he could get out of this with his skin intact and a working tongue, it would be a major coup. Everyone would be so happy. Klaus would hum and dance around more often. Surely that alone made it worth it. Making people happy was… kind of the point, wasn't it?

Leo opened his eyes and peered into the abyss, pulling his goggles out of the way for a better look.

The flashes and sparkles were back. He wasn't overly surprised. What were those, shards of glass or something? Just floating there in the ether? They were kind of beautiful, not that he had time to appreciate the aesthetics. There. The flash of red wings, vast and as beautiful as he remembered. Wait, was that another, off to the left? Shit, and on the right. Above. Left again. Below. Everywhere at once. The screaming was back. Was it just in his head, or was someone actually screaming? He certainly felt like joining in. His eyes felt like they were on fire, a horrifying grinding sensation just behind them. Every new flash of light from below felt like a crossbow bolt straight to the retina. It was too much. He was going to fucking break. He couldn't even count how many of them there were, but he was going to break anyway.

And then he did.

Leo screamed once and dropped. Some distant part of him was pretty pleased that he'd been as quiet and brief about it as he was. He felt like he could scream for years and still not have it be enough, but he'd toughed it out like a champ. Hell yeah. Sure, there was blood everywhere, and he was pretty sure it was dripping from his actual eyes, but he was still just a tiny bit badass. The self-fives could wait, though.

Through gritted teeth and gasping breaths he tried to explain just how fucked they all were; just how many pairs of wings they were dealing with down there. And then he passed right the hell out, arms catching him as he fell.

He did his job, though. Even if he was scared. Even if he'd wanted nothing more than to book it in the opposite direction. He wasn't sure if he dreamed it, but Leo almost thought he'd been handed off to Klaus, and heard a whisper very close to his ear.

"I'm very proud of you, Leonardo Watch."

Wouldn't it be nice if it were real.


	5. Locke and Load

"So I've seen from the reports that you've at least held a gun before," KK said. "Ever interested in learning how to use one properly?"

Leo shrugged. "I guess a little? I mean, I know which end to point at the bad guy, and that's usually been good enough in the rare occasion when it became relevant. Nobody hands me guns; they either leave me home or tell me to haul ass the opposite direction these days."

She nodded, belatedly wincing as the motion irritated her heavily bandaged shoulder. "Well, the boss and the doctor both say I'm out of commission for a while, so I may as well get to do something fun."

"I'm your entertainment?"

"Hundred percent, kiddo. That, and with how dangerous it's going to get around here, retreat may well stop being an option. We need you to be able to protect yourself, even if it's not much," she said. Leo was silent. She had a pretty good point. This was probably the sort of thing he should have learned how to do a long time ago, but he had never gotten up the nerve to ask Zapp or anybody to teach him. They were busy people with important work to do, and he hadn't wanted to be a bother. But KK was injured with nothing better to do, and she had offered all on her own. There were worse ideas in the world. Plus he was kind of interested in what kind of person she was. They hadn't gotten around to talking much before this moment, only nodding at each other in passing.

"Okay."

* * *

"All right. There are four basic rules of gun safety. Remember even one of them and you're good to go. With me so far?" KK asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay. One, keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Two, always be aware of what's in front of and behind your target. Three, never point the gun at something unless you're comfortable with it getting destroyed."

Leo frowned. "So what's number four?"

"Dunno. Forgot it. Like I said, you only need to know one of them. Be grateful I remembered three out of four." Leo was starting to have some doubts. "Okay, so you've loaded the thing. Lemme see the mag."

Leo pressed a thumb against the button on the side, the magazine thunking into his open palm. He handed it to KK, who inspected it. At last she handed it back.

"Not bad. You did that pretty quick."

Leo smiled a little. It was just repetitive motion and it wasn't like it took any skill, but he still felt good about getting praised.

"Now we're going to set you loose on a paper target. I'm thinking ten meters or so for a start. We'll bump you up to twenty once I'm certain you're not going to punch yourself in the face with the glock. You got your earplugs in?"

He nodded. The bright pink foam monstrosities felt pretty weird, and he could still kind of hear through them.

KK grabbed a pair of giant headphone-looking things and snapped them over Leo's ears. The remaining sound was all but gone. She gave him a toothy grin and a thumbs up, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the mostly-soundproofed range Libra used for target practice. The whole place was lined in thick concrete, so if a bullet went wide, they wouldn't have to worry about it hitting anything important.

Leo shuffled on in and held the door open for KK, who had acquired a pair of protective earmuffs herself. She made a face, but didn't say anything. Her shoulder must've been bothering her more than she felt like sharing.

Looking around, she spied a stack of papers in a corner and grabbed one. She looked over at Leo and made a motion to indicate he should remove the headset.

"Yeah?"

"Come put this thing up in the clip. Reaching up over my head is going to suck. Of course, you're short, so you may have to jump for it," she said with a cackle.

Getting closer, Leo nearly choked on his own spit. The paper target had a low-resolution caricature of Zapp on it, actual size. "Don't tell me; let me guess. Chain had these made?" he asked.

"You'd think. I got 'em for her as a birthday present."

"You all are the worst. And I mean that with love." KK just laughed.

Once he figured out that the little button on the wall would move the overhead clip-on-a-wire thing forwards and backwards, he got poor Zapp affixed and a good ten meters away.

"For starters, show me how you hold the – shit, not like that! Move your hand down or when the slide goes back, the web of your hand is gonna get sliced clean off. Ain't pretty. Okay, that's better. Now wrap your other hand around the base. Gotta keep it steady. Only the really skilled people or the idiots imitating Hollywood bullshit shoot one-handed. Stability is key. See the little nubs o' plastic on the top? You want all three to line up and form a straight line, with the target of choice centered. Basically, three things better form a straight line: the back of the gun, the front of the gun, and the target. And never shoot with one eye closed. Again, something you only do if you're really good or really fucking stupid. And if you're about to say some smartass thing about the eyepatch, remember that I'm both really good and it's not like it's a fashion statement. A'ight. Remember about the kick. Shouldn't be much, considering that you've only got a 9 mm, but it should be there. Keep your elbows and shoulders kind of relaxed so the force from the kick has someplace to go that isn't your face. When you pull the trigger, try to keep the force parallel to the angle of the gun, or your finger is going to pull it in whatever direction and muck up your aim. And… let 'er rip whenever you feel comfortable and have got your earmuffs back on. Try for three quick shots in a row. I want to see how fast you recover your aim if you're going to be using this in combat ever."

Leo swallowed and repositioned the earmuffs. The glock felt really heavy and solid in his hands. This was something that could kill people. Probably had killed people, since it came from KK's personal collection. A chill went through him.

But it wasn't like he could ever think of KK as a murderer. It wasn't like that. She had her guns and fired them because there were people who needed protecting. Could he really consider the object divorced from the wielder? She probably would have found a way to accomplish what she wanted, gun or no gun. But she did have weapons, and when there were others in need of help, she used them.

Who was he kidding? He was never going to feel comfortable doing anything like this. It was never going to feel right in his hands. Leo was pretty sure he didn't want it to. Were they going to expect him to shoot people if he learned how? Zapp had asked him to kill Sonic (granted, Sonic was a monkey, but Leo liked to think animals' lives were important, too) before. It came down to sheer dumb luck that the real target had been a flea. Bugs, Leo'd waste, no problem. Little fuckers had it coming.

This was dumb. They weren't going to ask him to kill innocents. This was Libra he was talking about. If he was going to commit himself to protecting people, it was his obligation to find as many ways to do that as possible. He had a responsibility to use every tool at his disposal, including the glock that sat so heavily in his sweating palms.

Leo sucked in a breath and held it, and shot three times.

His hands were shaking a little when he put the gun down on the little ledge. He yanked off the earmuffs and looked to KK.

"Whelp, let's see how you did, huh?" She punched the button on the wall, and the paper target sped towards them.

Leo winced. One hole, right in the badly-drawn shoulder. That was exactly where he'd been aiming, but the fact remained that he'd shot three times and there was only one hole. "Guess I must've screwed up the last two shots by a mile," he said sheepishly.

KK said nothing, her brow furrowed. With her good arm, she reached forward and yanked the paper closer to her face. "No… There's no way."

"Pardon?"

"That ain't one hole."

"…Huh?"

"I'm saying all three bullets went through the same hole. You didn't miss. You can tell from the tearing patterns. This is a good bit wider than one bullet would've made. But still, to cluster them all within a few millimeters of each other…" She shook her head, eye wide. "Kickass, little man. Is this the part where you shrug and say you've just got good eyes in your usual self-deprecating bullshit?"

Leo cracked a grin. "I guess? Although maybe photography had something to do with it. My old camera was really shitty and had a low shutter speed, so if you wanted a clear picture, you had to hold really still. Maybe that helped me keep my hand steady when pulling the trigger?"

KK just shook her head. "Fuckin' artsy weirdo." She then made him spell his own name in bullet holes in Zapp's face. Leo only winced a little, since it was a terrible likeness.

* * *

(A/N): I'm waiting to see how many people made the connection between the chapter title and the usual introspective horseshit.


	6. See this bite mark? Got it in 'nom

Hammer-Brody (Brody-Hammer? Bro-Ham? Ham-Bro?) suggested it, and everyone else strongly supported the suggestion: they needed to get something good to eat after how shitty the first half of the day had been. Leo, still somewhat reeling from getting whacked upside the head multiple times (doctor had already signed off on his general health, but still advised that he take concussion-related precautions for the next eight hours anyway), had mentioned that holding eating utensils might be more than he could physically handle. KK had chimed in with mention of the Interdimensional Night Market in Queens, where just about everything was either finger food or on a stick. Everyone else agreed, most because it had a great reputation, and Zapp because he appreciated the idea of stabbing something already dead with a wooden spike. Maybe it had something to do with the whole vampire-hunter thing.

As dumb as it sounded, Leo had never gone around the place before. He'd been in Queens on various delivery runs and the like, but he'd never stopped at the majority of the stores or vendors there.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting.

There were stalls set up absolutely everywhere, little tents overhead keeping any potential rain off the product. Grills large enough to lie down on were covered in what were probably meat-based delicacies from around the world, and in some cases, off it. You had your somewhat normal cuisine like takoyaki, halaal kabobs, Chinese and Korean dumplings, and some things that looked like the Burmese equivalent of crêpes. Pad thai, pork belly, Portuguese chorizo, tacos… the place had everything.

And then you had the stuff from off-world. There was some sort of horrifying-looking animal Leo didn't recognize that was being roasted whole over a fire pit, the chef whistling a catchy tune as her pincers clacked together, a third arm reaching behind her for a shaker of salt. Some of it looked pretty normal, including something that looked like beef stroganoff, but smelled much better. It stood to reason that other dimensions would have spices that Earth kids couldn't conceive.

"See something you like?" Steven said, elbowing Leo in the ribs as he stared slack-jawed at what was probably a dessert stand, featuring multiple mochi spheres on a stick that represented all the planets in whatever solar system the creator had come from, freshly dipped in a literal vat of liquid nitrogen. One of them actually had little spun-sugar rings around it like Saturn. God damn, but that belonged in his face.

"How much does any of this-"

"Don't start. We were going to provide food at the meeting, but since you and half the cars in Jerusalem's Lot got eaten by a giant truck-monster, the meeting got called off. We may as well foot the bill here. Just don't get carried away. Only get what you can eat in one sitting," Steven said.

"I must admit, the planetary system ice cream looks intriguing," Klaus said. "While I suspect it may be too much for one person, perhaps we can get one between us and share?"

Leo's smile split his face in two.

"Dude! Look, the yakitori's fresh off the grill over there! Hurry it the hell up and grab your main dish before it rots, ya nerd," Zapp said.

"Is there an alcohol stand?" Chain asked.

"Probably, but no drinking on the job, please."

"Then I'll just find the Russian food stand. There's probably a dish drenched in vodka somewhere in there."

Hammer giggled like a kid at a theme park. "I missed this crap so much. Gets real boring in solitary. Well, solitary-ish. You know what I mean. So, we're meeting back up in… what, ten minutes?"

"I'd suggest fifteen," Klaus said. "It will give us all more time to look and see what there is."

* * *

In the end, Leo'd gotten the weird alien beef stroganoff (which turned out to be absolutely delightful, aside from what appeared to be an alien spongy vegetable that Leo would be quite happy never to see again). There wasn't much in the way of seating, so everybody was just sitting on the curb, shoving food in their faces and cracking insensitive jokes.

"No, but man, if I hadn't been so freaked, I woulda pissed myself during that phone call. You were just like, 'oh yeah, I'm dangling from this giant monster machine thing; no biggie'. And then that nutcase chick Aligura pops up, and your response is just, 'I'm going to have to call you back'? What is wrong with you?" Zapp snorted.

"Chew your food, you cretin," said Chain.

"Ehehe. I don't know why I said any of that. I think at a certain point, there's emotional shutdown? Like, you aren't emotionally equipped to handle whatever bullshit has punched you in the gut this week, so just buckle down and pretend like this is normal, because it basically is at this point. You know?" Leo said.

"That sounds about right!"

"You poor bastard."

"So she's just as off-the-wall as always, huh? Not even sure how I feel about that."

"Good thing she's probably not going to come back for a while after today. There's only so much Aligura anybody can handle in… I'm going to say a month-long period."

"Seconded."

Klaus had gotten up to throw away his trash (the man ate so quickly, Leo'd half-expected him to break the sound barrier), and had vanished for a minute or so, but as he returned, Leo saw why. The hulking man bore one of the planetary system desserts, almost silly-looking in his enormous hands.

"I can't believe you actually…" Leo let it trail off, grinning like a loon.

"Why not? You seemed excited." Klaus used a paper napkin to ease the first of the planets off the stick, offering it up.

"Heh. That obvious, huh? But seriously, thank you," he said, taking it. The first bite had some sort of crunchy sugary coating over the sour-apple-like flavored mochi, and it was absolute heaven. The sugar on the outside even had swirls of food coloring to mimic atmospheric conditions. Sitting next to each other, they worked their way through the planets.

Next time Leo called up Michella, he'd have to introduce himself as the Devourer of Worlds, and then just not explain it for the next ten minutes of the conversation or so. He'd have to take the time to explain all the crap that had happened earlier in the day, after all.

He frowned. Come to think of it…

"Hey, uh, Mr. Steven?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"How did you know my exact position if you hadn't spoken with Zapp yet to confirm?"

Steven quirked a tiny grin. "Why, don't you already know? We put a tracking microchip under the skin in your neck while you were asleep."

He froze. "…You what?!"

Zapp, and to a lesser extent Chain, started cracking up in the back. Steven joined in.

"Christ, Leo, I'm just messing with you. Worth it, though. You're the easiest person to tease in the city. I can't believe you honestly thought we managed to perform invasive surgery without your consent or knowledge. Makes me kinda worried just what you do every day, to be honest. No, but the tracker is actually in your goggles. We figured you keep those on you frequently enough that it should suffice."

Leo turned to Klaus. "This is why I have trust issues," he confided.

* * *

(A/N): The International Street Food Night Market is an actual thing, and yes, it's in Queens. No, they don't have alien food. Probably. Maybe. You may legitimately have to double-check me on that.


	7. Keep on Truckin'

Klaus had been returning from the restroom when he noticed Gilbert cleaning up what appeared to be fast food strewn about the hallway. Steven and Chain's voices could be heard from the doorway just by it.

"Well, how am I supposed to know where he went?"

"I had some things to take care of here, so I couldn't very well follow him. Plus, he's got that bike of his and has greater mobility than I do, anyway. I'd have to go down to the parking garage, get my car, and then try to find him again, in this town's traffic. How well do you think that would go, hm? Chain, you're nimbler than just about anyone in Libra, so I hoped you'd be able to track down one errant boy."

"It's harder than it looks, Steven. I'm not the dog fetching the damn paper. Besides, just because he had some kind of epileptic fit in the doorway doesn't mean he knows something he shouldn't. Maybe somebody dosed his drink with laxatives and they just kicked in. Sounds like the kind of fuckboy mischief Zapp would pull."

"Hello? May I interrupt?" Klaus said, poking his head in.

"Oh, hey, Klaus. Sure," Steven said.

"What exactly happened?"

"We were talking about the mass amnesia incident last night when Leo walked in, pitched a spaz, and bolted. I didn't bother giving chase because why should I? And now Steven thinks Leo freaked out because he knows something," Chain said.

Klaus glanced down at a french fry that had skittered across the floor. "Whether he had a reason or not, we should still probably keep an eye on Leo if possible. I find it difficult to believe that he would intentionally leave a mess for anyone else to clean if the other matter were not infinitely more important. You know how self-conscious he is."

Chain grimaced. "All right, fine. I'll give you that. I'll see if I can track him down, but the trail is probably a little cold by now."

"Thank you for your efforts," Klaus said as she darted past him.

"I'm telling you: he knows something. And if he immediately went off to try and confirm what he knows, he could be in major trouble. He attracts it like incense attracts hipsters. How many times has he been kidnapped and/or hospitalized?"

"Twice each, I believe."

"In what, a month?"

"A little more than that, but I understand your point."

Steven sighed. "The kid's giving me gray hairs. You see this? Gray. While I am confident I can pull off the silver fox look, I had no intention of getting a head-start on the process."

"We'll find him. Even Leo can only be kidnapped so many times in one month and one week."

* * *

It turned out Klaus was wrong. Leo could definitely get kidnapped one more time.

Chain had taken a while to find him. Apparently, he'd been stashed in a truck (for the third time as well, and boy did that make for an eerie series of coincidences) and driven about the city, making tracking him difficult. What had made him much easier to locate was the enormous cloud of reddish gas that exploded in the downtown area, knocking thousands of people unconscious nigh-instantly, with the truck in question at the center of the explosion.

Klaus, arm thrown over his mouth and nose, had torn his way through what little remaining gas there was and into the truck. Sure enough, there was Leo, tied up on the ground with a massive pool of what had to be blood under his head. In that moment, Klaus felt part of his chest freeze. He wasn't moving. Was he even breathing? He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. Three others were in the truck, all knocked for ten themselves, and a thorough investigation of each of them would be conducted at a later date. If Steven's theories (voiced in the car ride over) were correct, the gas was the source of the amnesia as well, so it was unlikely that even the perpetrator of Leo's attack would remember having done it. Interrogation would only get them so far.

He knelt by Leo's prone form, gently turning the boy onto his back. Blood matted the hair on the right side of his face. From what little he could tell, the skull was undamaged. No spots caved in. Still, there was an extensive laceration that would probably need stitches. Head wounds had a tendency to bleed a lot and Klaus knew that. He'd calmed down a little. Leo still most likely needed a blood transfusion soon, but it wasn't anything a good visit to a doctor wouldn't fix. Chain had called emergency response services even before entering the scene, so they wouldn't have too much longer to wait. He was certain he could hear distant sirens already. Or maybe those were car alarms.

Leo would be fine. He'd have another truck-based kidnapping and subsequent hospital visit to add to his already-alarming track record, but otherwise, he'd live. The ice in Klaus's chest thawed slightly.

* * *

"M-Mr. Klaus?" Leo mumbled, coming out of his drugged-up haze. The doctors had decided to load him up with morphine while doing the stitches, taking advantage of his unconsciousness while they had the chance. It had taken several hours for him to shake off the effects.

"We're here, Leo."

"Oh, hey. I… I'm in the hospital again, huh?"

Zapp laughed. "Yeah. We're gonna have to put up one of those counters in the corner of HQ. Y'know, like, '5 Days Since Leo's Been Kidnapped' and every so often we'll have to reset it. Like now."

"Wait, kidnapped?" Leo said. He sounded very bleary.

"That's somewhat to be expected," Steven said. "You were in the middle of a massive gas… leak? Explosion? Something. Point is, one side-effect of it is amnesia. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh… I… It's all pretty hazy."

"Well, what day was it?"

"…I think it was September… 24th, or something?"

They froze. Two weeks. Two whole weeks? Hadn't it been less than a day lost in the previous incident?

"Yikes. Little man, it's October," said Zapp.

"Wait, what?! Jesus fuck," Leo said.

"Looks like you lost two weeks or so. You are out of it."

"This is pretty consistent with what I've heard reported otherwise, though. Other people in this same hospital all appear to have lost their memories of the last two weeks, give or take," Chain said.

"I… Wow. So, someone care to fill me in on whatever the hell happened… ever?" Leo groaned.

Klaus smiled. "I'm sure we can make that happen. I would be more than happy to explain."

"Cool. Hey Chief, if you're watching over him, can I ditch and go grab a burger? I don't think I've eaten in the last seven hours and I am a growing boy."

"You're in your twenties and stopped growing long ago, you selfish pig."

"Shouldn't you be licking your own ass somewhere?"

"Children, children. Let's all calm down and take this outside."

"A burger, huh?" Leo said. "You know… that sounds pretty decent right now."

* * *

(A/N): So I have a degree in biochemistry now.


	8. Greenhouse Effect

When first Leo had heard about Klaus's gardening club meetings, he'd been half flabbergasted and half completely unsurprised.

Klaus was a kind, sensitive soul who took pleasure in little things, like a well-brewed cup of tea, a good game of internet Prosfair, and apparently a lovingly tended garden. Just because he punched the shit out of vampires and ran an underground secret organization in his spare time didn't really change that. Still, it never stopped being slightly jarring.

"Well… I guess he'd be really good with digging holes and stuff," Leo said.

"No kidding. His stupid green thumb club is full of nothing but old people who ask him to do their digging and weeding for them. Like he hasn't got a life. Retired people just freeloading off of the Chief because he's gullible," said Zapp.

Neither had noticed Gilbert approaching from behind. "Do you have something in particular against those of us aged 65 and older, young master Zapp?"

Leo hadn't thought his (tor)mentor could go white in the face until that moment. Deciding that Zapp would probably take a good three minutes to think up a believable excuse, Gilbert turned his attention to Leo.

"Do you have any interest in gardening yourself?"

He shrugged. "I mean, I used to be in a dinky apartment complex, and now I'm living in here, which is also pretty devoid of plant life outside of the potted ones here and there. I guess there's been no real opportunity for me to get into it? In our house outside the city, I know Mom and Michaela liked it a lot. Especially Michaela. There wasn't much in the way of exercise she could get, but gardening didn't really involve a lot of movement, so she could stay in the same place, weeding and putting new little flower sprigs in and stuff. Her rose bushes could have won prizes if we ever entered them in anything," he said with a fond smile.

"Then you might want to consider asking Master Klaus if you might go with him next meeting. I'm sure he would be delighted. And perhaps you may pick up some new techniques to bring back to your sister."

All in all… it wasn't the worst idea that had ever been suggested.

* * *

Leo wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. As it turned out, Zapp had a point. It really was a collection of old people even smaller than he was, with Klaus towering over the lot of them like a redwood among saplings. Klaus, on the other hand, had a happy little smile on his face and was hunched over in order to better be heard by failing hearing aids in a conversation with a few of the other club members, most of whom were indeed asking for favors of manual labor. It was clear that they were all long-time friends, though, and Leo felt a tiny bit like an outsider. That, or the Crocodile Hunter, observing the elderly in their natural habitat ("Take a look at that 'un! Isn't she a beaut'?")

"So, dearie, you're a friend of Klaus's?" a lady asked. She looked about 75 or so, her silver hair on the short side, but still pinned back. She was wearing a green cardigan that she probably crocheted herself. He was pretty sure he'd heard one of the others call her Marjorie.

"Uh, I guess so, yeah. Mostly just coworkers, though. Maybe also roommates? It's complicated," Leo said.

"I see. It's so nice to see him making friends. He's a good boy and deserves better than some of the people I've seen hanging around him." Marjorie wrinkled her already-fairly wrinkled nose. "Like that one white-haired fellow. Hmph. Jackass." Leo nearly choked on his own spit. Perhaps he'd been too quick to write the lot of them off as feeble.

"I… yeah. I hear that a lot," said Leo.

She cracked a grin. Those might have been her real teeth. "I like you, kiddo. You don't seem like much of a gardener type, though."

"You can tell?"

"You can always tell. Gardeners, for example, tend to trim their nails very short to keep dirt from getting under them too much. Your nails are a bit on the longer side, and they seem pretty free of dirt." She lifted her own. Her nails were indeed very short, and it looked like faint traces of dirt were ground into the whorls of her fingerprints. "See?"

"I guess so."

"So why'd you decide to drop on in? Trying to impress a girl somewhere?" Marjorie waggled an eyebrow knowingly.

"Does my little sister count? She's pretty big on it, but she lives pretty far outside the city and… doesn't get out much," Leo said.

She smiled at him. "What a good big brother you are. I'm a little sister myself, so consider that the word of an authority on the matter. Well, have fun, sweetie! I hope you're not too bored to consider coming back next meeting." And with that, she flagged down another friend and made a beeline for him.

Leo couldn't shake the feeling that something was a little off. Making sure nobody was looking, he opened his eyes the slightest bit.

Well, she wasn't anything supernatural. He hadn't really been expecting her to be anything but human, but it was still nice to have it confirmed. It wasn't like Klaus would be trading gardening tips with Blood Breed, right? That was silly. So what was the source of the unease that still lingered?

Maybe there was something on her person. He did his best to scan her head to toe.

And there it was. Leo almost wished he hadn't seen it.

A little lump on the left side of Marjorie's chest, just above her heart. To Leo's eyes, it wasn't so much readily visible as a lump so much as a collection of oddly uniform cells that didn't align well with any of the others. It couldn't have been much bigger than a quarter, but tiny threads of it were already starting to spread.

Breast cancer. First-stage metastatic, too.

Leo snapped his eyes shut. What the hell was he going to do with that information? He felt a little sick. You couldn't just march up to a person and announce that they had cancer. He wasn't a doctor, but he certainly felt a newfound respect for them if this was the kind of thing they had to deal with on a regular basis. Klaus. Maybe he could ask Klaus what to do. Marjorie was one of his friends. Surely he'd know what to do. How to break the news gently. Or maybe subtly suggest that she get checked out at the doctor as soon as possible.

He wormed his way through the small crowd that had gathered around Klaus and tugged on one of his shirtsleeves. Klaus looked down, surprised.

"Um, can I talk to you over there really quick?" he asked. There must have been something in his voice, because the much larger man's face grew serious.

"Of course. Just a moment, everyone. I'll be back shortly." Klaus guided them over to a bench, slightly shielded from the view of the others in the greenhouse. "Is something wrong? Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah… I just- I mean, you know Marjorie? At least, I think that's her name?" Klaus nodded. Leo told him what he'd seen, and what it probably meant.

Klaus was silent for a long moment, his jaw working.

"I'm sorry," Leo said. He wasn't sure why he said it.

"No, no. It's good that you caught it. You said it was in the early stages. Perhaps simple surgery can remove the tumor, and she will be fine." Klaus smiled at Leo, a mix of sadness and gratitude in his eyes. "Truly, thank you." He got up from the bench, and made his way over to Marjorie.

Leo never went back to the gardening club. There are only so many ways you can tell a woman you were looking at her boobs, and absolutely none of them can be taken well.

* * *

(A/N): The first time Klaus mentioned needing a hoe, Zapp misheard him and agreed wholeheartedly, and that's how he got dragged along to a meeting.


	9. The Real Animal House

Zedd honestly couldn't have said what went through his head when he woke up on the couch of Libra headquarters. Perhaps something along the lines of, _Master Raju is either the absolute worst or this is a prank of some kind._ And yet, here he was.

First step was always to compile knowledge of the situation. Okay, so Libra was an organization that had at least something to do with combating Blood Breeds. One of their members appeared to be another student of Master Raju and Zedd's senior pupil (as well as a complete fuckhead but maybe it was just that he made poor first impressions). The rest of the organization seemed… abbreviated, if that was the right way to phrase it. Select few individuals had been present, and Zedd was pretty sure that had to do with how difficult it was to fight a Blood Breed in the first place.

The most important scrap of data: Libra had the ability to seal Blood Breeds permanently.

Even Master Raju couldn't do that. He could beat them up until they retreated inside their little egg-like monstrosities, sure, but he had to continue to destroy them each time they successfully regenerated, which made the whole thing feel like a dangerous waste of time. Maybe killing them was impossible right now with their limited technologies and techniques, but sealing them away was the next best thing. And the wolfish-looking man in a vest could do it.

"Morning."

Zedd paused for half a second, then recoiled.

"Whoa! Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you or anything." The voice came from some little scrap of a boy behind the couch, back over by a little coffee table. He appeared to be munching on chicken nuggets. At least he hoped those were chicken nuggets. If they were fish sticks Zedd might actually hurl. Come to think of it, the kid looked a little familiar. If he remembered correctly, the boy had also been there, but likely not as a combatant. There was no way a twig like him under five feet tall would be running around fighting Blood Breeds.

"This is… Libra?" he asked.

"Yeah. I've been told to offer you a place to stay here in the building, if you need one. Rent is pretty hard to come up with in this city and it looks kinda like your Master dropped you off with zero warning."

Zedd bristled. True or not, it still stung. "I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding. It's very kind of you to offer, but I'm not sure I'm going to need it."

"Hmm," the boy hummed, chewing and looking unimpressed. "Whatever you say. Hey, so I'm Leonardo Watch. Everybody around here calls me Leo. What about you?"

"Shouldn't you already know that?"

"Yeah. Zapp went through your pockets after you had a little swan dive there – don't worry, I'm not going to tell anybody – but I still want to give you the chance to introduce yourself properly."

Huh. Well that was thoughtful.

"…Zedd O'Brien. A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." Zedd got a sunny little smile before Leo went right back to his food.

It was no use. His curiosity got the best of him. "If you don't mind my asking, how did someone as… er, young as you get into an organization like this? What is it that you do here?" he asked.

"Eh? Oh, some stuff. Refill the coffee pot. Errands. And I guess just general information-gathering." And with that, Leo opened his and stared directly into Zedd's. The fishman sat on the couch, frozen. They weren't just an eerily vibrant shade of blue, they actually glowed, and spanned so wide that no sclera was visible, if it even existed. He had the distinct feeling that he was being looked _through_ , dissected on a fundamental level. They were beautiful and a little terrifying. "…Your aura really is that weird. I wasn't sure before. Couldn't exactly check thoroughly considering I had a name to produce elsewhere."

A name? Zedd's mind sifted through his limited memory of last night's battle. Sure enough, during the sealing of the Blood Breed, the wolfish man had shouted something that sounded a bit like a name. Now it all made sense. The true names of Blood Breeds were tied to their lives, their very souls. Command of their names could be used to seal their power and even the beings themselves. It was still highly complex and difficult to do, but possible. Zedd didn't have nearly enough expertise to manage it with as much grace as the man from last night had. But that still meant that you had to get the stupid name in the first place. Blood Breeds knew damn well how dangerous it was to have their names floating around out there and so took extreme caution to keep them secret. And yet this child could, in his own words, 'produce' them?

Leo's eyes were closed again as Zedd looked back to him, but the image of them wasn't easily forgotten. That had to be how. He could just… see their names. Just by looking at them.

General information-gathering, his ass.

But on the other fin, that was so fucking useful. No wonder Libra managed things so quickly and efficiently. Maybe there really was merit to sticking around a bit as Master Raju had ordered. Zedd certainly wouldn't say no to learning how to seal away something that nasty, and Libra was the only organization that currently held that ability.

"So… I'm meant to be a member from now on?"

Leo smiled again. He looked downright benign when he did that. "Mister Klaus said you were more than welcome, yeah. Uh, Mister Klaus is the big one with the red hair and glasses." Ah. "Are you okay with coming on board?"

He paused. "I believe so, yes."

Leo's grin turned devious. "In _that_ case, I'll let Zapp know the hazing can commence."

* * *

(A/N): If they actually spoke Japanese, Leo would absolutely get a kick out of being called "senpai".


End file.
